Of Being
by Aibohp
Summary: A sequel to 'The Feeling'. Sam and Dean are on their own now and with China Cat's last words to them heavy on their minds they decide to take a break from hunting so that Sam can learn to take care of Dean and Dean can learn to let him. Warnings inside.
1. Check the morning glories

A/n: Wheeeee! So this the first chapter of a sequel to 'The Feeling'! The updates for this will probably be slow. Not gonna lie. My priority at the moment is getting 'The Cat Came Back' done. But when I get ideas for this I'll update. A few warnings, this story will deal with things like self harm so I caution readers who may have or do indulge in self harming activities, some parts could be triggering. Also this will eventually turn into a Sam/Dean story. And when I say Sam/Dean I actually do mean Sam/Dean... As in Sam on top, Dean on bottom. I don't know if anyone else has noticed but for some reason in this fandom I often times find things that are labeled as Sam/Dean but then end up being Dean/Sam... Why yes there is a difference. At least in my mind there is Sam/Dean implies that there will be a Top!Sam and Bottom!Dean where as Dean/Sam implies the opposite... but maybe that's just me. And the line breaks in this story will be quotes from various movies! Lol

**("****The harpy's as real as you are, and just as immortal. And she was just as easy to catch, if you want to know.****")**

"Are you sure this is alright, Dean?"

"Yeah, not like she's home or anything."

"That would be why it might not be okay, Dean. You don't just go into people's homes while they're gone."

"Eh, she wouldn't mind. She'd probably be happy someone was in here taking care of things. Besides, you said you wanted a break from hunting so we could really sort stuff out right? Well this is the place to do it. Give me a boost."

Sam and Dean are standing on the porch of a small house, seemingly in the middle of nowhere. It is completely surrounded by trees and there is a clothes line in the back yard. The porch wraps all the way around the house. The house itself is has wood siding on it and it is painted a shockingly bright yellow and the roof is green tin. There are baskets of flowers hanging from hooks along the ceiling, a swing, chairs, and even a few ceiling fans on the totally screened in porch.

Dean is standing under one of the fans, staring up at it with his eyes narrowed. With a little shrug Sam moves over and laces his fingers together, hands cupped so that Dean can put his booted foot in them. With a grunt Sam holds Dean up while he inspects the top of the ceiling fan.

"HAH! Found it!" he calls, and Sam lets him down. The older man is grinning broadly as he holds the key to the door that they have been looking for these past twenty minutes.

"She hides her key on top of a ceiling fan?" Sam asks, watching as Dean moves over to the door, pulling open the screen one so that he can unlock the heavy wooden one behind it.

"Not always. She moves it around. Last time I was here it was in the morning glories, the Pearly Gates," he says, vaguely motioning to the white flowers off to the left.

Dean pauses to take his boots off outside the door before going inside and Sam does the same. The colors inside are just as shocking as the ones outside. The door leads straight into the living room, the walls are painted a bright, turquoise blue and the kitchen, separated from the living room by a bar has more golden walls that match the comfortable looking couch that Dean is settling himself on. Sam feels somewhat awkward, being in another person's house like this but Dean has never looked more relaxed.

The man is leaning back on the couch, feet propped up on an old, slightly battered steamer trunk that has been turned into a coffee table.

"She likes color doesn't she?" Sam says, shifting from foot to foot and taking in his new surroundings.

"Yeah, you should see her room. It's purple. Dibs on her bed, by the way," Dean answers brightly, just letting his head fall back, not reaching for the TV remote or anything.

Sam busies himself by moving over to a wall and starting to look at the pictures there. Most of them have China Cat in them, though she seems to have a different hair color in almost everyone and there are almost always at least two or three people in the photos with her. A majority of the pictures look like candid shots.

There is one with China cat has bright purple hair and is standing next to a girl with black hair who is grinning at the camera. The smaller girl's arm is around China Cat's shoulders holding her close and she looks startled.

Another, this one a bit bigger than the last has the same two girls, though China Cat's hair is green and brown in this one, though it looks surprisingly good on her. There are also two men, one tall, lean and blond, and the other broader, more stocky and with red hair. The girls are sitting on the men's shoulders, their arms wrapped around each other's shoulders as they throw victory signs at the camera.

The pictures make Sam smile slightly. Then he comes across one with Dean in it. The two appear to be lying in opposite directions with their heads side by side. They are both smiling and considering the glimpses of arms in the picture they are both trying to hold the camera above their faces to take the picture.

"That was taken just before I ended up leaving. We were outside, lying on the ground," he says and Sam tilts his head to the side then bites his lip. His brother looks so happy. "Come on, let's go get our bags and bring them inside," he said, heading for the door.

Sam follows after, noting that it is starting to get darker outside. Crickets and frogs are starting to chirp. Sam likes it here, he just feels awkward as hell invading someone's home like this! Dean doesn't seem to mind at all. He looks like he feels at home as he wanders outside in his bare feet and pops the trunk so that they can get their bags from the back.

"Hey, Dean, why did you say this was the place to take off from hunting for a while?" he asks, following his brother and getting his own bag, then closing the trunk as he turns to follow him back into the house.

"Because nothing happens here, there are ghosts but they are benevolent, and there are monsters but they are kept in check," he says with a little shrug and Sam stares in slight disbelief. Dean grins. "I know, right? It's weird. It has something to do with this family that doesn't live too far from here or something. That is what China Cat told me, anyway."

"Actually I was more surprised that you knew the word benevolent," Sam teases, earning a playful punch to his arm for his trouble.

"Shut up," Dean says with a smile, taking his bag back past the kitchen and down a short hallway. Sam follows for long enough to watch as his brother disappears into a room with a plain, wooden door that has some sort of skull hanging on it. "What do you want to eat for Diner?" Dean calls.

The door isn't all the way closed and from where Sam is standing he can see deep, eggplant purple walls and a large bed with a blue and white patch work quilt on it, and a red and black blanket. Dean pops his head out of the door when he doesn't get an answer and perks a brow at his brother.

"Sam?"

"Oh! Uh… Sorry. Just whatever…" he says, waving a hand dismissively as he steps closer and pushes open the door so he can see the room. Dean snorts quietly and shrugs, moving back over to the bed and plopping down on it.

Sam watches his brother sink into the mattress then just looks around. There is a book shelf that looks hand made with books practically pouring off of it. A dream catcher made from a rack of deer antlers is hanging from a shelf above the bed. The bed itself is massive and covered in pillows, blankets, and stuffed animals that don't really seem to correlate with one another but still make an inviting looking nest. Dean grins, feeling somewhat proud of the room, even if it isn't his and there is paper all over the floor, making it seem messy. The air in the room smells sweet but slightly smoky and a glance at the small table by the bed answers the question as to why. Three is a mason jar full to bursting with colorful sticks of incense and an almost over flowing ash catcher.

"Come on, sit down," Dean says, patting the other side of the bed. Slowly Sam comes over and eases himself down on the bed. He has to bite back a moan as he sinks into the soft mattress. This is such an improvement over motel beds. "Now I seriously need to know what you want to eat so I can cook."

Sam perks up and turns his head to look at his brother, smiling.

"You're going to cook?" he asks, a bit excitedly. Dean just grins.

They might not have gotten to do it often when they were younger but any time they got a place with a kitchen Dean would cook for them and Sam had always loved his cooking. He didn't know where he had learned to do it, though.

"Yeah, I'm going to cook but if you don't tell me what you want I'm just making tacos," he says, laughing quietly. Sam shrugs.

"Tacos sound fine for me. I love everything you cook…" Sam says, and he doesn't see it but Dean blushes a little at that comment.

**("I'm the most dangerous man in this prison. You know why? 'Cause I control the underwear.")**

Sam has decided that he loves to watch Dean cook.

He is sitting on the couch, the TV is on but his attention is drawn by his brother in the kitchen, at the moment dicing up a tomato. The smell of cooking meat and spices fill the air. Without a word Sam gets up and slips up to the counter separating the living room from the kitchen. He seats himself on a bar stool and continues watching his brother until the older man takes notice of him.

"You want something, Sammy?" Dean asks, curiously, putting the tomato in a bowl and then pushing it off to the side with the others. There is a bowl of onion, another of lettuce, a third with shredded cheese, and the last one has sour cream in it.

"How did you learn to cook?" Sam asks, picking up an orange from the bowl of fruit at his elbow. He starts to gently roll it from one hand to the other.

"Trial and error mostly," Dean says quietly, shrugging a shoulder as he takes a wooden spoon and stirs the meat a little bit. "You have to remember some of it. You were six when I first started trying to cook. Remember when we were living in that little apartment in Utah? You walked into the kitchen and there was smoke everywhere and steam billowing out of the sink? That was me dousing a burning dish rag and some seriously charred pancakes..." he explains, taking the meat off the burner and checking on the taco shells in the oven.

Sam watches his brother as he pulls the taco shells out of the oven as well, putting them on the counter. He plucks them up, despite the fact that they're hot and quickly fills them with the steaming, ground meat he puts two on one of the bright yellow plates by the stove then sets it in front of Sam along with the bowls of toppings. He places them one by one then goes back to getting his own tacos made.

"Thanks," Sam says, glancing up at his brother as he tops off his tacos with lettuce, cheese, and tomato.

Sam doesn't really know what to think of his brother any more.

Less than a month ago he found out that his brother hurts himself and he just doesn't know what to think. He has been turning it around in his brain for weeks, trying to find a way to make it make sense to him. Sam can't figure out how cutting into one's flesh like that could possibly comfort someone. He shudders slightly at the thought He's picking at his taco shells when Dean turns around with his own plate and starts dressing his tacos with a little bit of everything. Sam laughs quietly when he sees that his brother's got four tacos crowded on the plate and tilts his head to the side.

"What's so funny, Sammy?" Dean asks with a grin, moving around the half wall and sitting by his brother. He starts digging into his tacos with gusto and Sam just watches for a moment before he digs into his own.

They eat in silence until Dean is midway through his third taco.

"You're thinking about it, aren't you?" he asks quietly, looking down at his plate and idly tearing apart what is left of his third taco, pulling the shell apart and letting the meat and everything else spill out onto the plate.

Sam freezes.

"Don't pretend you're not. I can feel the way you're looking at me like I'm some sort of masochistic freak," Dean mutters, lifting half of his taco shell to his mouth and nibbling on it. He looks sad and nervous and for a second Sam just opens and closes his mouth like a fish.

"I don't think you're a freak," Sam finally says, looking down at his plate and then at his brother. "I… I just don't understand it, Dean," he says quietly, reaching out to roll up the short sleeve of his brother's chest, exposing his shoulder.

His fingers tremble slightly as he traces his fingers over the mass of thin, white lines that cross over each other. He bites his lip when he touches four scars that are pink and fresh, not yet healed months later after the cuts they were born from were made.

Dean is tense as his brother touches his scars He feels so vulnerable with them exposed like this.

"I'm sorry," he says quietly, looking down at his plate. He feels Sam's hand move so that his fingers aren't lightly tracing the scars any more.

Now his hand is placed flat against his brother's shoulder, warm palm covering the mass of lines. He gently squeezes it then reaches out and takes his brother's chin in his hand, turning his head so that he's looking at him.

"Dean look at me," he says, waiting until his brother drags his eyes from his mutilated tacos and looks up at him. "You don't need to be sorry I'm not mad. I'm just worried and… I don't want you to feel like this is what you have to do to make yourself feel better," he whispers the last part quietly before he slowly lets go of Dean's chin and lets him look away again.

They are silent again, Dean eating his mess of meat, shells, onions, sour cream, cheese, and tomatoes, and Sam finishing off his tacos. When he's done and Dean has managed to clear his plate Sam picks them up and takes them to the sink, figuring he can do dishes if Dean is the one that cooks. They busy themselves, washing dishes and putting away leftovers then Dean finally breaks the silence.

"So you just ate Bambi's mom," he says, glancing at Sam who fumbles with the pan he is washing.

"What?" he asks, looking at Dean, confusion clear on his face. His brother just grins and holds up the bowl of taco meat.

"Venison! Haha, China Cat eats a lot of deer meat when it is available," he says, leaning down as he puts the bowl in the fridge, pulling out a beer for himself that he uncaps and takes a drink from.

"How can you tell it was deer? It tasted like beef to me."

Dean points to plastic bag beside the stove.

"The baggie I found it in is labeled."

Sam wrinkles his nose.

Dean laughs.

**("A woman without love wilts like a flower without sun.")**

Sam falls sleep on the couch and despite the fact that he doesn't really fit on it the furniture is surprisingly comfortable. Dean is in curled up in the middle of China Cat's bed, or he is supposed to be. But Sam has the distinct feeling that his brother is not curled up in bed, based on the amount of times he has heard the toilet flush within the past ten minutes. The not so quiet mutters of 'shit' and 'fuck' and 'damn it' only add to his theory. With a quiet groan the lanky man on the couch gets up and wanders toward the bathroom door. He gently knocks.

"Dean, you okay in there?" he asks, for a moment everything is silent and then there's some hasty shuffling and bumping around and then Dean cracks open the door, sticking his head out to smile up at Sam.

"I'm fine," he says but Sam feels like something is off. He lifts a hand and gently pushes on the door, not entirely surprised when he feels Dean holding the door right where it is. The older man's smile falters a little.

"You sure?" he pushes again and Dean frowns, pushing back.

"Yeah, Sammy, I'm fine!" he says, sounding a bit frustrated now.

Sam waits for just a second, staring down at his brother who just can't seem to meet his eyes. Then he pushes his shoulder against the door and, after a brief struggle with Dean, he muscles his way into the bathroom with his brother who quickly crosses his arms over his chest. Of course it really does little to hide the problem. Dean has his arms crossed, one hand on each shoulder but the thin trickle of blood running down his brother's bicep is evidence enough of what was going on.

Sam feels something inside of himself break and he wants to whimper.

"Dean," he says softly, reaching out to pull the other man's hand away from his left shoulder. Dean allows it, knowing he's been caught. "Why?" Sam frowns and looks around the bathroom for something to stem the flow of blood.

He crouches down, pulling open the cabinet under the sink. There's a small pile of white wash rags sitting on a shelf there and he snatches one up. After wetting it in the sink he presses it to the little red lines carved into his brother's skin, one dribbling blood more than the rest.

"It's been bleeding longer than it usual does," Dean says quietly, looking away and letting his brother take care of his arm.

"Why didn't you tell me?" Sam asks, looking up at Dean who just gives him a look that says, 'Really?' Sam blushes a bit and ducks his head. "Right…" They are quiet for a few minutes and when Sam pulls the rag away to check on the cuts there he winces slightly.

There are three going horizontally across Dean's shoulder. The last one is the deepest and it's slowly starting to clot. Sam lets out a quiet sigh of relief then gently wipes the dried blood off of his brother's arm. When he is done they stand there in silence, Dean wrapping his arms around himself and focusing on the floor while his brother just watches him.

Surprisingly Dean is the one to break the silence.

"Well go on," he hisses, not looking up at his brother.

"What?" Sam asks, wrinkling his nose in confusion.

"Go on! Yell at me, get mad… I… I donno!" Dean throws his hands up in the air and turns away from the younger man.

Sam just stares at him again.

"I… I'm not mad. I'm just. I'm worried. I don't know what to do…" The giant of a man bites his lip, opening and closing his hands, wanting to reach out and try to comfort his brother somehow. Instead he settles for just gently brushing his fingers over the new cuts. Dean flinches away from the soft touch and Sam's hand shakes a little. "I don't know what to do, Dean. I want to help but I just… I don't know how…"

Dean is quiet and eventually Sam lets out a sigh and reaches up to run his fingers through his hair.

"Can you at least tell me why?"

Dean looks at him, then looks down and lets out a tired sigh of his own. He lifts a hand and runs his fingers through his hair then glances over his shoulder at Sam.

"Can we not do this in here?" he asks quietly and Sam nods eagerly. Even though his brother is putting off actually talking he's just happy that the other man is even willing to try talking at all.

So Sam waits while Dean takes a cotton ball and swabs his sliced open skin with some rubbing alcohol on the sink. The man hisses quietly and wrinkles his nose as he throws the cotton ball away and pushes past his brother to get out of the bathroom. Sam follows closely behind him as the older man goes back to the bedroom. He crawls into the middle of the bed and takes his time wrapping himself up in a thick red and black blanket. Sam sits on the edge of the bed and they fall into silence once more.

They seem to be doing that a lot lately.

"It's like… When I get stressed or upset or I feel anxious and I just can't make it stop. If I… If I cut myself," he closes his eyes and squirms a bit. Admitting it like that makes him feel so vulnerable. "It's like everything bothering me and all the negative feelings just bleed out of me and I feel calm," he says, looking down and biting down on his lower lip. "It's just… Since you found out. I… It's complicated I don't know how to describe it," he says quietly, looking down at his lap.

Sam stays quiet and just waits. Even if this is all the explanation he gets he'll be happy. It's something.

"Everything feels different now and… It kind of scares me," Dean won't look at his little brother and he fidgets a bit, feeling uncomfortably exposed.

Sam doesn't know what to say. He can't remember ever hearing Dean admit that he was scared of anything.

"What about me knowing scares you?" Sam asks gently.

Dean just looks away and squirms a bit.

That's fine.

Sam won't push.

He takes his brother's silence as answer enough and just looks around the room for a moment.

"Hey, can I sleep in here with you?" he asks and Dean just looks at him, brow quirked.

"What, Sam, you scared of the dark?" Dean teases, and just like that the sharing and caring moment is over.

"No! I'm just too big for the couch. Come on. We've shared a bed before!" Sam coaxes and his brother snorts and shrugs.

"Whatever, just don't turn into a damn starfish on me!" the older man says as he detangles himself from his blankets and curls up on one side of the bed, back facing Sam. "And turn off the lights."

Sam smiles and gets up, turning off the lights before he gets into the bed alongside his brother. Things aren't perfect yet. Dean isn't 'cured' and he still doesn't quite know what to do to help but he feels like they're a step closer now. He smiles softly in the dark closes his eyes. Maybe everything can be alright if they just keep moving forward a little bit at a time.

**("****28 days... 6 hours... 42 minutes... 12 seconds. That... is when the world... will end.")**

A/n: The line breaks for this chapter are quotes from the following movies: 'The Last Unicorn'. 'American History X'. A translation of a quote from 'Amelie' ('Le fabuleux destin d'Amélie Poulain' is the original title). 'Donnie Darko'.


	2. Dean's relationship with a unicorn

**A/n**: Another chapter! As I said uploads for this will be slow. Also, I feel the need to warn you there will be some drug use in this chapter, just marijuana, not like I'm turning the boys into crackheads.

**("Hah! You may think I'm a hardhearted black sock, but underneath this dark woolly exterior is a naked, pink foot!")**

Sam jerks awake when he feels something pressing against his chest. The young man looks around the room for a moment, startled. He feels the pressure against him again and he looks down, frowning. It's Dean, snuggling into his chest and pressing into him. He has a blanket pulled up to his face and wrapped up in his arms. His fingers twitch a little and he hums quietly in his sleep, seeming to settle down again. This is weird for Sam. He glances over to the clock on the bedside table, the glowing numbers announcing that it is around six in the morning. With a groan he lets his head fall back down into the pillows.

He looks back down to his brother and cocks his head to the side. Sam knows that Dean can be a bit of a sleep cuddler if the way he hugs his pillows at night is any indication. And way back when they used to share a bed when they were little Dean would wrap himself around Sam, keeping him close at night. But Sam has never woken up to find Dean snuggling up to him like this, putting him in a position to be the one doing the holding.

With a quiet sigh he lifts his hand, running his fingers through the older man's hair. He's a little surprised by how soft it is. His eyes drift from his brother's face down to his shoulder and he frowns, moving his hand to gently run his fingers over the cuts. He's seen his brother with all sorts of horrific injuries but somehow these cuts, as small as they are scare him the most. They've scabbed over now but he can still remember how they felt before, his brother's skin freshly split open and bleeding. He shudders.

How could Dean want this?

He wraps his arms around Dean and holds him tightly to his chest. The young man lowers his head to nuzzle the top of his brother's head. He doesn't know why he does it. It's just a sudden urge to keep him close.

"Dean…" he whispers quietly. "You're not alone… please let me help," he softly begs.

He falls asleep like this, holding Dean close.

**("Revenge? You? I am SMAUG! I kill when I wish. I am strong, strong, STRONG! My armor is like tenfold shields! My teeth like swords! My claws, spears! The shock of my tail, a thunderbolt! My wings, a hurricane! And my breath, Death!")**

When Sam wakes up again Dean is gone. He panics for a moment and jumps out of bed, throwing open the door so harshly that the coyote skull on the door almost goes flying off. The man storms toward the living room, worried until he hears the TV and sees his brother sitting on the couch staring at it. It takes a moment for him to realize just what it is his brother is watching, though and it's slightly surprising when he starts to figure out what it is. It's a cartoon for one and there is a unicorn that is in a cage, talking to a man in blue robes and wearing a pointed hat. Sam wrinkles his nose. It looks vaguely familiar and it takes him a moment to come up with the name but when he does he laughs loud, long, and hard.

"Dude! Are you watching The Last Unicorn?" Sam asks, grinning when his brother jumps off the couch and tries to hide the TV with his body. "You totally are!"

"Shut up! My relationship with this unicorn is none of your business," Dean pouts, staring at his brother through narrowed eyes for a moment before plopping back down on the couch and going back to his movie.

Sam perks a brow and moves to sit beside his brother, head tilting to the side. A breeze flows through the open windows and makes him shiver. It also makes him realize that he's just in his boxers. When he looks at Dean he frowns, noticing that his brother's eyes are red and half lidded. He reaches out to cup his brother's cheek, making his brother face him.

"Have you been crying?" he asks, frowning at his brother who just stares at him blankly for a minute then laughs.

"No, I haven't been crying, Sammy," he says, shaking his head and then turning to look at the TV again.

"Then what's up with your eyes being so red?" Sam asks, his frown deepening. Dean doesn't answer and just smiles a little.

Sam lets it go and just looks up at the TV. It has been a long time since he's seen this movie. He remembers watching it once when he was little and he remembers Dean complaining about how girly the movie was. Apparently Dean didn't mind it as much as he let on back then. A quiet humming noise suddenly disrupts the silence that he and Dean have fallen into and then he feels his brother flop against him, leaning heavily into his body and laughing. Sam gives his brother a funny look and Dean just looks up at him, all wide eyed and biting back chuckles.

"Dude… what the hell is wrong with you?" he asks, pushing Dean back and looking at his brother worriedly. He touches his head, checking for a fever. He doesn't find one but it doesn't make him feel any better.

"Nothing, Sammy," Dean replies leaning back from his brother's hands and then diving between his arms so that he can hug his younger brother. "You're so warm…" They stay like that for a moment. Dean holding onto Sam and Sam confused as hell. Then Dean suddenly lets go and jumps up, grinning until he starts to fall down again. The man blinks stupidly as he falls back onto the couch and then he laughs.

Sam thinks that Dean has finally lost his mind.

Slowly the older Winchester gets up and stumbles toward the kitchen. He shuffles around in there, peeking into the pantry, then the fridge. Sam watches from the couch as his brother leans into the refrigerator and pulls out a bag of red apples. He keeps watching as Dean comes back, sits down, takes out an apple, and then tears into it like he's starving. Before he knows it the first apple is gone, save for the core and Dean is working on his second one, staring at the TV.

Sam has never seen Dean like this and it's scaring him a bit.

"Dean… Dean are you sure you're alright?" Dean blinks at him then smiles and nods, cheeks bulging with bites of fruit.

"M'fantashtical," he mumbles around the apple and Sam really knows that something is wrong now because his brother just uttered the word fantastical.

The gargantuan man rises to his feet quickly and starts looking around the room, eyes wide. There has to be something supernatural at work here. Maybe Dean got it wrong. Maybe things do happen here. He starts looking for anything, hex bags, sulfur, anything! Dean watches him from the couch and tilts his head to the side, seeming curious about what his brother's doing. It isn't until Sam drops down to his knees and starts to check under the couch that he sees it.

His eye twitches as he reaches under the couch and grabs the bag.

His head tilts to the side as he opens it, looking inside at the dried, green buds.

"Dean is this… You… But… What?"

Sam just can't get his hand around the fact that he is staring at a bag of weed. A bag of weed. A bag of fucking weed! He looks up, and an ashtray catches his eye. There is a lighter beside it and the stubbed out remains of a joint resting in the ashes. Dean just stares down at him then sighs softly, like his brain is finally catching up with what is going on.

"Are you going to get all pissy about every self indulgent /self medicating thing I do?" he asks sourly.

Sam just stares at him for a moment.

"Well if it's bad for you, yeah!" he exclaims. Dean pouts.

"S'not bad for me…" he mumbles petulantly. "I bet you've never seen me eat this much fruit in my life…. I wouldn't either! But I'm hungry… and everything tastes so good…" he says, digging into another apple and quickly eating it down to the core, completely careless of the juice dripping down his chin.

Sam stares again. He takes a deep breath and then pinches the bridge of his nose.

"How long has this been going on?" he asks, tossing the baggie onto the coffee table and moving to sit on the couch beside his brother who just shrugs and starts twisting the stem off yet another apple. He thinks Dean might be trying to go for some sort of world record.

"I only smoked when I lived with China Cat. Never before, never after. Can you imagine me smoking this while I was hunting? I would be dead," he answers, biting into his apple. "I don't know what you're getting so worked up about anyway. It's not like you've never done it, College Boy," he says, smiling.

Sam doesn't smile.

Dean stares at him for a little bit.

A thought occurs to him.

"You've never?"

"No!"

"Then why did you go to college? That is where you do this sort of stuff. You drink a lot, get high, and party!" Dean protests.

"I went there to learn, Dean! Remember?" Sam says, pinching the bridge of his nose and sighing quietly.

Dean wrinkles his nose.

"Well that's stupid…" he states, watching his brother for a moment before sighing some.

"Okay, Sam. You really don't want me smoking at all?" he asks tilting his head to the side. "I'll stop if you really want me to," he says quietly.

Sam wrinkles his nose a little but shrugs his shoulders.

"How did China Cat even get you to start… Never seemed like something you would do…" he says quietly, watching his brother who smiles a bit then laughs quietly.

"It isn't like I hadn't gotten the offer before, ya know, while we were in school I just always said no. I didn't like the idea of being high when I was supposed to be helping dad or taking care of you. That and I was pretty sure that if dad caught me he'd kill me…" Dean starts to explain, shrugging his shoulders. "But you know, while I was here I didn't have to do anything. China Cat was the one taking care of me and one day I was stressed and wanting to… you know…" he looks down, then and everything is quiet, except for the TV. "Anyway… I was getting worked up about that and she asked if I trusted her and I said I did. She rolled a joint and told me just to breathe in while she breathed out. I didn't get it at first but then she got all close to me and put her lips just over mine and when she blew smoke into my mouth I inhaled. We did that until her joint was gone and I felt great…"

He chuckles quietly and rubs the back of his neck after that. Things are quiet and Dean is looking up at the TV again and Sam is watching Dean. The older man seems more tense than he was when Sam woke up this morning. With a sigh Sam runs his fingers through his hair and glances down at the baggie.

"What is it like?" he asks and Dean looks at him and shrugs.

"It… It's hard to describe. I mean I just don't really care about much of anything. Like when I hugged you earlier. Later on I'm probably going to look back at that and be embarrassed but right now I don't really care at all. It makes things easier. When China Cat and I did it together it really was a bonding experience, you know?"

Sam watches his brother's eyes light up a bit, though they're still pink and a little glassy. There's a spark in them and he can't remember the last time he saw Dean smile so wide.

"I mean she and I would just sit and talk about everything for so long… I mean some stuff didn't make sense at all but other stuff…" he pauses and shrugs his shoulders. "I would talk about you, dad, and mom, Bobby."

The little flair of jealousy that Sam feels, he tries to tell himself, is completely normal! His brother has been going out and getting high with some girl he barely knows and telling her everything! He feels like Dean should be able to talk to him just as easily without the social lubricant. But it seems like that's just not how it's going to work. With a little growl of annoyance he reaches out and snatches up the baggie of weed, tossing it into Dean's lap.

"Fine. If you think it'll help us talk and shit then roll us a joint," he says gruffly, jealously and irritation at his inability to help his brother where China Cat could fueling his decision making.

Dean looks up at him a bit startled and shrinks back some. For the first time Sam can think of Dean looks a bit scared and small. The anger and frustration he feels lessens some and the tension eases from his body. Dean frowns.

"Are you mad at me, Sammy?" he asks quietly, sounding surprisingly sad and easy to hurt. Sam guesses he really just doesn't care about keeping up a tough front at the moment.

"No. I'm not mad at you. I just… you to be able to talk to me like you did with her. I want to be able to help you too and I'm willing to try anything to do it," he says firmly, Dean blinks at him a few times and shifts in his seat.

"You know you don't have to… And if you really want me to stop I will," Dean assures and Sam just sighs quietly and shakes his head.

"No. Roll one. I said I was willing to try anything and if it helped you and China Cat… Well," his voice fades and Dean watches him for a moment before nodding.

He slides off the couch and sits in front of the coffee table. It takes a moment of searching but eventually he finds a small package with the words Joker and 1¼ with a picture of a harlequin on it. From his seat on the couch Sam watches his brother a joint for them. There is a little apprehension that makes him shift uncomfortably but he's too stubborn to back out of this now.

"So… You want the first hit or what?" Dean asks, perking a brow as he holds the rolled and twisted piece of paper in his fingers, lighter in his other hand.

"We can do it the way you and China Cat did," Sam responds. Truthfully the closer he gets to actually smoking this thing the more nervous he is getting.

Dean shrugs and puts the joint between his lips and lights, like a cigarette, Sam things. Then Dean inhales and gets up onto the couch. He kneels on the cushion beside Sam then leans over him and he keeps leaning down and down and down until his lips are hovering just over his brother's.

Oh yeah… Sam didn't really think about this part being awkward.

When Dean parts his lips and starts gently blowing against his lips Sam opens his mouth and breaths in.

It's strange. He can't taste the smoke as much as he thought he would be able to. But he can taste Dean. They aren't touching anywhere but their mouths are hovering so close together. Sam can taste the apples on his brother's breath and when his stomach does a little flip-flop that he can remember from the first time he kissed a girl he liked. His first thought is just one word:

Fuck...

**("No. My lady, I am a hero. Heroes know that things must happen when it is time for them to happen. A quest may not simply be abandoned; unicorns my go unrescued for a long time, but not forever. A happy ending cannot come in the middle of the story.")**

Dean smiles as he stretches out on the couch, head on his brother's lap as he watches his movie. Upon Dean's insisting that Sam see 'The Last Unicorn' too they restarted the movie after they finished smoking and dragged out every bit of snack food that they could find. Sam is humming quietly to himself, rubbing his fingers in small circles on Dean's scalp.

And he thinks this is nice.

He likes relaxing like this and just watching a movie with his brother, even if the seating arrangements are a little awkward. Or they would be if he really cared. Sam looks down when he feels Dean rub his cheek against his thigh and shift a little bit, eyes half lidded.

"Prince Lir reminds me of Dad," Dean says quietly, absently rubbing his cheek against Sam's leg.

"How?" Sam asks, wrinkling his nose. He can't see his father in the Prince. He's just too… nice. Not that John Winchester was an awful man it just seemed to Sam that he was very strict and not always the kindest man you could find.

"You might have heard it earlier before we restarted the movie. His little speech about how happy endings don't come in the middle of the story. It makes me think of Dad…" Dean says softly, looking up at Sam who looks a wee bit confused. "I mean think about it. The whole him hunting the Yellow Eyed Demon, that is his unabandonable quest! And the reason he never stopped and let us settle down is because it wasn't time yet… He hadn't avenged his unicorn!"

Sam thinks it is kind of awesome his brother just came up with that analogy. And his childish excitement over comparing their parents to the prince and the unicorn is… interesting. Somehow childishness in an adult like this… It's sweet but also a little sad. Sam smiles, though and nods his head in understanding, watching as the unicorn lets the magician that helped her escape from Mommy Fortuna free of the tree that he brought to life.

"I…" Sam starts slowly, "don't really remember mom so I don't know if she really is anything like the unicorn but I think you're kinda like her," he says and Dean turns his head to look up at him, eyes wide and a little confused.

"How am I like the unicorn?" he asks, wrinkling his nose. Sam looks down at his brother and opens and closes his mouth a couple times.

It's on the tip of his tongue. The words he wants to use to describe his brother and how it matches up with the unicorn are in his head. He just can't seem to get them to come out of his mouth, like they're shy or something. In the end he just whines and pouts a little bit, his hand moving to lightly stroke over his brother's side.

"You just do," Sam says as he drags his fingers along the small valley between Dean's ribs and his hips. When he does Dean lets out a surprising noise, like a squeak crossed with a squawk and a yelp.

And then he jerks under his brother's hand and tumbles off the couch. For a moment Sam is startled and then when Dean gets his knees under him and sits on his heels, looking up with eyes wide and surprised and hair all tussled up he can't help but laugh. He laughs long and hard and deep and his ribs start to hurt so he wraps his arms around them and gasps for air. At first Dean pouts but then he smiles and crawls between the V of Sam's legs.

Sam's laughter dies slowly after that and he just looks down at his brother, smiling fondly as Sam wraps his arms around his waist and presses his cheek against his stomach. Dean's cheek feels warm and he reaches down to run his fingers through the man's short hair.

"You a little ticklish there, Dean?" he asks, snorting when his brother leans into the hand touching his hair but shoots a glare up at him.

"Shut up…" Dean mutters, snuggling back down into Sam's stomach and closing his eyes.

They are quiet for a little while and Sam gently rubs his large hand over Dean's hair, eyes half lidded as he watches the movie. He wonders if Dean still is or if he's fallen asleep. Sam glances down, noting his brother's eyes open, though half lidded and tuned onto the screen, watching as the unicorn is changed into a woman.

"So… You think Dad's like a prince?" he asks finally. He isn't sure what prompts it. Dean hums against his stomach and shakes his head a little.

"More like a knight. And I'm his squire," Dean nods decisively and Sam perks a brow.

"What does that make me? The page?" he asks, only a little surprised that Dean would know the steps of becoming a knight.

Dean turns his eyes up to his brother, looking surprised. Then he smiles softly and pushes himself up to his feet, leaning in to kiss Sam's forehead. He nuzzles his brother's nose a little then leans back and shakes his head.

"No. You're the prince, baby boy," he says softly.

Even in this state of mind Sam doesn't fail to see that Dean puts himself at the bottom of the totem pole.

**("****Ah, you're awake. I was hoping you'd cry out in your sleep, then I would have bitten your head off to silence you.****")**

A/n: There see now, that wasn't so bad. The quotes used for linebreaks in in this chapter are from the following movies: 'Mirror Mask'. 'The Hobbit' (1977 version). 'The Last Unicorn' (I know! I used one from them in the last chapter but I really love this movie). 'Princess Mononoke'.


	3. The lights in your eyes have faded

A/n: Alright so Yeah, posts have been slow but you knew that was going to happen. The biggest reason is because I am writing 'The Cat Came Back' and because I am actually planning this one out. 'The Feeling' was written on the fly, not much planning as some of you might have noticed. I'm trying a little harder with this one. lol

**("But, wait, what kind of bet is this? If they're dead, they can't live up to their side. If they win, they can't live either.")**

When Sam goes to sleep that night he doesn't feel like a prince. He's in bed with his brother again and when he falls asleep the smell of smoke and his brother is in his nose because Dean fell asleep before him and is curled up close to him like he was when Sam woke up this morning. He dreams that he is a knight and that he is trying to save his brother who is wrapped in the coils of a dragon.

_The dragon is black and red and spitting flames at him whenever he tries to get close but all he can see is Dean's big, pleading green eyes, begging him to save him. And Sam wants to. He has to. There is smoke and ash in the air that is thick with the smell of burning flesh and the sounds of Dean screaming and the dragon bellowing at the top of its lungs. Its head is thrown back to face the sky a pillar of flame spewing from its mouth. _

_Out of everything he has seen while hunting with his brother and father there is nothing more horrifying than watching Dean being smothered and burnt as he is crushed in the dragon's tail. _

Sam jerks awake when the beast finally lets Dean go and his brother flops broken and dead to the ground. He couldn't save him. Sam's heart his thundering in his chest and he's sweating in fear. The hand that rubs up and down his back startles him and he jumps but then he realizes it is just Dean. Dean who is behind him now, and watching him with sleepy green eyes, hand stroking his back in wide circles smiles at him a bit when he looks at him over his shoulder.

"You were tossing and turning a lot… Rubbing your back always calmed you down when you were little," he says with a yawn. The older man closes his eyes and snuggles down into a purple pillow under his head.

He lets out a yawn but he keeps slowly rubbing Sam's back and Sam lets out a sigh and breathes a little easier now that he knows that his brother is safe.

**("Now you're king of the mountain, but it's all garbage!")**

After the day that they smoked together it is like a fucking dam broke in Dean and now Sam is getting all sorts of bits and pieces of his brother that he doesn't really know what to do with.

It has been about a week and there are days when Dean is just Dean, the Dean that Sam is used to. He's all cocky grins and laughter. He goes on runs around the house he cooks, they watch crappy TV shows and action movies and it is just like a break between hunts, except they aren't moving around from one motel to the next.

Then there is one day when Dean doesn't seem to want to get out of bed and all he does is shake and whimper, all curled into his self and miserable. Sam finds out that is a day when Dean wants to hurt himself and is trying not to, trying to shake away the creepy crawly feelings. Between The days were Dean is Dean and the days when Dean won't get out of bed there are days where he smokes. Sam has smoked with him a few times on these days and the highs become less exciting and new. They get to be more of a pleasant feeling where he can just relax and forget about all the stressful thoughts of how to help Dean when his brother won't talk to him or anything.

However he never smokes as much as Dean who just seems to keep going and going and going until he can't roll a joint or pack the blue, glass pipe that he calls a bowl. It is disturbing and funny at the same time. Funny because Dean gets so excited and happy and says the strangest things. Or he gets floppy and clingy and sweet, occasionally going off on rants about all sorts of things that don't really seem to connect. It's like a peek into what is going on in his head. However it's a shame that he seems to have to smoke so much to get to that point of joy and openness.

All of it makes Sam sort of happy and sad.

He's happy because it is obvious that Dean is letting him, even if it's just a little bit. Sam feels like he's getting a chance to watch his brother from behind glass, like Dean is a goldfish or an animal in a zoo. He can watch him but he doesn't really feel like he's with his brother yet. It is like they are both reading the same book but on different pages.

Today Dean is somewhere between the two. He's mostly the Dean that Sam grew up with but he's quieter, seeming thoughtful. Today is also the day that they have officially run out of food and ventured to the nearest store and started stocking up on food. And on this day, as they pull back up into the yard of the house they have taken up residence in, they find another vehicle waiting for them. It is a truck, a very saturated, jade green with a very small woman standing in front of it. Very… very small.

When Sam gets out of the Impala he realizes that he is a full foot taller than her and then some. She smiles when she sees them, blue eyes following them as they get closer to her, Dean putting himself slightly in front. He looks a bit wary, despite the fact that the girl is so small. Size doesn't always matter if it is something malicious and wanted to hurt you. She seems fairly harmless, pushing off from the side of the truck, making her long hair sway as she steps forward to meet them part way. She offers Dean her hand.

"Hello. My name is Sarah. I knew Sunflower. She asked me to check on you boys every now and then," she says and Dean starts to relax just a little. Sam decides not to question how China Cat knew they were in her house. "So put away your things and then you're coming with me," she states. And the tension in Dean's shoulders is back.

"Uh… Where would you be taking us?" Sam asks, squeezing in between Dean and this new girl, Sarah. She just smiles.

"Sunflower said that you two may be staying here for a while to try and work through some things. She wasn't specific but I thought it couldn't hurt if you went to see Ashleigh," she explains, which isn't really explaining at all since Sam doesn't know who this Ashleigh is or what she can do to help him and Dean.

Dean doesn't really seem to care because he snorts and turns to start putting away their food. Sam watches him for a moment then looks back at Sarah. He is sorely tempted to crouch down so he is more on her level.

"I'm … sorry about him. He forgets his manners pretty quick… And he's having a bad day," Sam tries to excuse Dean as the man plods to the house with bags in hand. "Who is this Ashleigh woman?" he asks, tilting his head to the side, looking every bit the curious puppy.

"She is sort of like a therapist… only not. She helps people figure things out," the girl said, nodding her head sagely. Sam glanced at his brother as he came out of the house and went back to the Impala, getting more groceries. He somehow doubted that Dean would go for a visit to a shrink of any kind.

"I don't really think Dean would want to go about spilling his secrets to a complete stranger," Sam stated, looking to brush the girl off gently. She was offering help and he didn't want to seem ungrateful. If it was just up to him they'd be talking to this woman yesterday but it wasn't just up to him. It was up to Dean. He didn't think that his brother would open up any more to a stranger than he had him over the past week.

But somehow China Cat had managed it to get the man to open up.

"He doesn't have to talk to her if he doesn't want to," Sarah says, still smiling, encouraging, wanting to help. "When I spoke to China Cat last she said that maybe mentioning that Ashleigh is the reason that hunters really aren't needed around here. She said that might get Dean's attention."

And get his attention it does since Dean happens to be walking past when Sarah says that. Dean studies her for a moment then shrugs.

"We can go see the Ashleigh chick," he says like he doesn't care but Sam knows he is curious about what makes Ashleigh so special that she can keep away the monsters that go bump in the night and that makes him smile.

So they finish putting away their foodstuffs and then follow Sarah and her green truck down the road.

**("****I can't trust you! Brad was a sap. You weren't. You were with him, and so you were playing him. So you're a player. With you behind me I'd have to tie one eye up watching both your hands, and I can't spare it****.")**

The house they pull up to is sort of large, plain, rectangular, and made of red brick. It's somewhat dull, in all honestly. The porch that they can see from the yard is cluttered with tables and other bits of furniture. Despite the painfully normal house there is an air of… something… that hangs around the yard. It sort of makes Dean's skin crawl and he feels the need to glance around and make sure there is nothing creeping up on him. Whatever it is it doesn't feel malicious… just… sort of sad. There is ivy creeping up the sides of the house, along with other vine like plants. And behind the house, where they are now, there are fields and trees, a pond behind them. There's and old dog pen and a shed beside it with.

All in all it seems the most spectacular thing about this place is the gigantic, thorn covered ball of a rose bush about six yards away from a picnic table between a couple pine trees and the gigantic oak not far beyond that that seems to tower over everything else. Personally Dean is a little underwhelmed. He isn't sure what he was expecting but it wasn't really this.

Another thing he wasn't expecting is the buxom blond that throws open the door on the porch before anyone can even go up to knock, shotgun in hand. Her blue eyes are ice cold and staring daggers at the tiny young woman who brought them here and she is staring right back. Dean is edging out of the way, just like Sam.

"Get the hell out of here and take them with you, you conniving little bitch!" the blond snarls, and the tiny, bubbly girl that had brought them there curls her lip in response. "I'm not letting you take those two in there. It was one thing when all of them were here but now you're just hurting her!"

"It is her job to-" Sarah doesn't get much further than that because the blond starts shouting again.

"It isn't her job to do shit! She isn't doing this shit for you anymore! Hunters got along fine without her and then you started dragging them here like sick cats so that they could get help. And she never complains! It is hard enough for her keeping everything supernatural around here calm all on her own since her family just up and left her here to handle everything on her own! Frankly I think she should just say fuck all of you sorry sons of bitches and just let everything go to hell around here. There are hunters, let them take care of this shit!"

By the end of her speech the woman's ample chest is heaving and angry tears are shinning in her eyes. Sarah's are hard and determined. And this situation is getting a bit too hostile for Dean's liking.

"We don't want any trouble. We can always just go…" he says, reaching out to take a hold of Sam's elbow and lead him away but Sarah frowns and turns to stop them.

"Don't go! It is Ashleigh's responsibility to help people. That's why she is the way she is."

Dean frowns. He doesn't really like the way Sarah talks about this Ashleigh girl. Sure he would like to visit her, figure out how she keeps all the supernatural shit under control. But if he'd be causing her some sort of pain he'd rather not. Furthermore, he doesn't want her helping him. He doesn't need her help. So he just glares at the tiny female.

While he's doing that the door opens and closes again and there is another woman on the porch. She's got brown hair, hanging dark around her head. It looks a little tangled and ruffled up, like she just got out of bed. She's a bit more plump than the blond she's comet o stand by, a little taller too. Her brown eyes are half lidded and tired as she lazily takes in what is going on. Also, she isn't wearing pants… Just a too long purple shirt and panties. Dean hums softly in appreciation, earning himself a glare from both his brother and the blond. Damn it.

"Danielle, put the gun down, let them in," the brunette says quietly, turning around and heading into the house again. The blond scowls but lowers her weapon and Sarah gives her a smug little grin as she prances up the stairs and walks past.

Sam and Dean follow, and as they get close to the screen door they find it to be iron. Dean is deciding that the more time he spends here the more he likes this house. The living room that they walk into has a couch, two chairs, a TV, and a wood burning stove. Immediately to their right is a bedroom with two beds in it, a TV on a dresser and a counter along one wall with a mirror that runs the length of it and a sink. The house is dark and the air is sweet and smoky. Somewhere in the house The Beatles are playing. The brunette is nowhere to be seen.

So they just follow the small girl who brought them here while Danielle, shotgun still in hand, brings up the rear. Sarah leads them quickly through a dining room and then into a short hall. At the end of it there is another bedroom but Dean doesn't see much of it before the young woman opens a door to her left.

The room they enter isn't small, really, but quite cluttered snake cage is by the door and across from it a large queen sized bed with the brunette, presumably Ashleigh, is curled up, wrapped up in a blanket. The water and food dish on the small table near the window make sense when black cat darts into the room between Dean's legs and starts sniffing at his boots for a second before jumping up into the bed with the girl.

"So who has the problem?" she finally asked, looking up at everyone, waiting for an answer.

Sam is the one to give it.

"Um… Both of us? I want to help him but I don't think he knows how to let me…" It all sounds more like a question than a statement. Dean huffs.

"I didn't come here so she could fix me! I just want to know how she keeps all the monsters in check," he says, looking down at the girl who just stares up at him with deep brown eyes.

"I can't fix you," she finally says, reaching out and taking Dean's hand. They keep eye contact and he lets her pull him into her bed. She smiles. "You have to fix yourself. I can just show you how."

For a moment they just stare at each other, Ashleigh holding Dean's hand in both of hers. Sam thinks the eye contact is creepy and not entirely natural. When Dean shows no signs of asking for or denying her help the young woman lifts her hands and cups his face in her hands, stroking her thumbs over his cheeks. "You know China Cat is the one who said maybe you should see me, right? You know she would never let anything happen to you."

That seems to be all that Dean needs to hear because he mutters a soft, "Okay," and Ashleigh smiles. He doesn't seem to notice as Sarah ushers Sam out of the room and to the living room again where she sits him down on the couch. Danielle is in a recliner. She still seems to be trying to make Sarah's head explode with her eyes. And Dean doesn't know any of this because he is still on the bed with Ashleigh.

She smiles at him and leans back, picking up a coffee mug from the octagonal table beside her bed. It's filled with a brown liquid and moments after she picks it up a little steam wafts from the top. She chuckles softly and places it in Dean's hands.

"I was going to drink that myself but it's yours now. If I were you I would chug it, try to get it down quick. It will taste kinda bad," she says apologetically.

For a moment Dean just looks down at the cup, biting his lip. He's questioning himself, wondering if he should actually drink this. He wonders if he should trust this Ashleigh girl. Dean has never met her. For all he knows she could be some crazy bitch trying to kill him. But she knows China Cat. China Cat wouldn't send him to someone that would hurt him. She wouldn't recommend that he get help from someone eager to cause him pain.

He takes a steadying breath and then brings the cup to his lips, quickly tilting it back and chugging as much of the drink down as he can in one go. When he's done he gasps and stares at the cup, disgusted. She was right when she said it would taste bad. Small hands take the cup away from him again and he looks up to see that Ashleigh has built a nest out of her pillows and blankets.

Her bed reminds him so much of China Cat's only it is more firm.

"Take off your boots, get comfy… It's gonna take a while for it to kick in but when it does I think you should be lying down," she says, getting up off the bed and going to the windows on the eastern wall. She pulls the thick drapes closed and settles on the bed again, on the edge this time, waiting for Dean to get comfortable.

He shifts a bit uncomfortably for a moment but takes off his boots, then pauses for a moment and removes any weapons from his person, the gun tucked into the back of his pants, the knife he has at his hip. Then he crawls up toward the head of the bed and curls up among the pillows and blankets. Ashleigh smiles and curls up beside him so that she's facing him.

He looks into her eyes again. They are so brown…

And so tired.

**("Gilles de la Tourette syndrome. It's a beautiful name I think. I was born with it. Starting now. It'll get worse before it gets better. My shoulders, my fingers, and imitating. Spitting. It's a voice in your head that makes you do the opposite of what you're supposed to. It makes you break rules. But sometimes breaking rules is good. So I like to think about it that way.")**

A/n: The quotes used for line breaks are from the following films: 'Funny Games' (2007), 'Akira', 'Brick', and 'Phoebe In Wonderland'.


	4. Otters, beavers, wolves, and birds

****A/n: And another chapter for anyone who happens to be reading this. lol Sorry it took so long.

**("****[**_**after being shot in the knee**_**] I thought you were supposed to go into shock! I'm not in shock! It fuckin' hurts!**** ")**

To say that Sam is annoyed would be an understatement. It hurts to see that all you really need to get Dean's trust is a nice pair of legs, big tits, and a lack of pants. He has been trying to get Dean to let him help since he found out that his brother hurt himself. All this Ashleigh woman had to do is drop a couple names and look cute and then Dean was crawling into bed with her letting her do whatever she wanted. When a small hand gently touches his arm he figures that his mood must be displayed on his face because when he looks down Sarah is smiling gently at him.

"Don't worry. She's just going to help him," she says, patting his arm.

They are sitting on a couch in Ashleigh's living room, the TV is on but quite and the other woman, the angry blond, Danielle is sitting in an arm chair near him and she lets out a little snort. Her eyes narrow as she glares at the tiny woman by his side and when Sara looks at her and their eyes lock they both just glare, neither seeming like they plan on letting up any time soon.

"You two really don't like each other, do you?" Sam asks, partially because he is curious and partially because he doesn't want to think about Dean or the girl he is with or what they are doing at the moment. Danielle's eyes snap to him and she shrugs her shoulders, glancing back at Sarah to glare.

"I don't know. If she would stop hurting my friend then I don't think I would have much of a problem with her," the blond says, flicking her hair and Sarah's frown deepens.

"It is her duty to-"

"Shut up with this 'it is her duty shit'!" Danielle cuts her off with a shout. "Padraic, Ann, William, and Grim got to duck out and it was their 'duty' just as much as it is Ashleigh! But they all just left her to deal with it all on her own and she doesn't need hunters coming in so she can play therapist to them! That was never her job!" The blond says angrily and the two women just stare at each other, completely oblivious of Sam for a moment.

He is curious but almost scared to ask what the job Ashleigh has is. Not because he thinks it could possibly be any more disturbing than the things he has seen or done while hunting but because the protective streak that Danielle apparently has for the girl is a bit frightening. Eventually, though, his curiosity wins out over his apprehension and he quietly asks,

"What exactly is this job of hers that you two keep talking about?" Danielle looks up at him and just watches him for a moment then she gets a slight glint of pride in her eyes and lifts her head a bit.

"Her job is basically to keep people safe by keeping the monsters that go bump in the night under control," the woman says, with a little nod and Sam frowns.

"How does she do that?" he asks, frowning. "I mean like… Is she a Hunter or what?" Danielle frowns at that but she doesn't seem angry or annoyed, more like she is searching for the words she needs to explain.

"Her family was blessed by the wolves," she slowly starts, leaning back in her chair. "You know about them, right? The White Wolf is the guardian of all things holy. The Gray Wolf is the guardian of mankind and the earth. The Blue Wolf is guardian of the day and The Black Wolf is guardian of the night. Well the four wolves, but mostly The White and The Gray, decided to give some humans the ability to protect their own. So basically they gave them super powers," the girl laughed quietly. "I mean they can't fly or shoot lasers from their eyes or anything but they have abilities that set them apart from normal people. Anyway I guess you could consider them hunters… They are just more defensive than offensive. Do you understand what I am saying? The goal wasn't to make people who could run off and find monsters and kill them. It was more like they would monitor their own territories and try to guard against the problem."

Sam nods slowly, getting the general idea. Then he frowns and tilts his head to the side.

"If there are these families that can do that then why aren't they? I mean you make it sound like there really shouldn't be Hunters at all because these people are like the first line of defense or whatever," he says, waving his hand vaguely and Danielle smiles a little sadly.

"Well. Most of them just kind of died off before they could have any children to pass the gift onto. See when all of this first started the families with this gift would usually have five children. And usually out of the five only one would make it through and get married and have their own children to pass the gift onto. Eventually people didn't want to put the burden on their children so they just wouldn't have any. They would make it a point to keep from having their own families because they didn't want to put their children through the same crap they went through. As far as I know Ashleigh's family is one of the few if not only ones that managed to make it this far." Sarah is the one to burst into an explanation this time and Danielle glares at her but doesn't make any corrections.

"Alright," Sam says glancing between the two. "Two things. What is the 'gift' and if they are supposed to have five children where are the other four that should be with Ashleigh?"

Danielle sits up straighter at that and her eyes harden with anger.

"They fucking abandoned her! They decided they didn't want to do their fucking jobs, felt like they were getting cheated out of having a life and just stopped doing it! They figured, 'Oh, there's Hunters now. Why should we worry about this shit, they can handle it,' and then they just split, leaving Ashleigh to deal with all of it on her own!" The woman snaps furiously. Sarah's face is grim.

"There are really two gifts," the smaller woman starts, looking up at Sam. "The gift to sooth spirits and the give to tame beasts," she starts out, counting off on her fingers when she names each gift that the wolves apparently blessed Ashleigh's family with. "The reason that there are usually five children born with the gifts is so that two have the ability to work with spiritual monsters, ones that don't really have their own physical form. And the other two can tackle things like werewolves, windegos, kelpies, or other creatures of that nature. The first born child usually has the ability to do both and will be in charge of training their younger siblings to use their own gifts."

When she is finished explaining she shoots a glare at Danielle.

"And who are you to complain about Ashleigh's siblings? You want her to just shirk her responsibilities as well!" the woman barks out and Danielle glares.

"There really is little use for her to keep this up since there are Hunters now but the problem is that you've basically turned this place into a resort for them! A place where they can kick back, relax, score a free therapy session, and unwind! Do you know how taxing it is on her to try and help these fucking Hunters you keep bringing her? And she can't really stop doing what she does because of this place's reputation for not needing Hunters. If anything happens here they won't come because they will assume that whatever keeps this place quiet will just fix the problem!"

The two women start bickering again and Sam just leans back against the back of the couch. The subject sort of started to hit close to home near the end. He can't help but feel like a heel because he did pretty much the same thing that Ashleigh's siblings did. He just ditched Dad and Dean to deal with the hunting so he could have his own life. He also sees the painfully clear similarities between his brother and the woman talking with him now. Dean probably started getting even worse when Sam left and (as he gathers from the arguing women) Ashleigh is running herself ragged and slowly deteriorating because of her siblings' abandonment.

He glances over the top of Danielle's chair, down the hall, and at the door that is hiding his brother from view and he thinks that there is nothing he won't do to make it up to his brother, to help Dean stop causing himself harm.

**("Ahg! Crazy doodle-bitch!")**

Dean's first clue that he isn't exactly conscious any more is the fact that when he opens his eyes he sees trees and grass. And then, when he tries to get up he's only able to get as far as all fours. When he looks down he gets an even bigger shock. Instead of hands he has paws, webbed paws. But it doesn't at all feel unnatural. He curls his toes into the ground a little and then rolls onto his back and holds his new appendages over his head, studying them. Then he looks down his body and notices that he's long, brown and furry. His hands drop onto his face and starts feeling his snout and nose. He's got whiskers.

A laugh startles him out of his explorations and he quickly scrambles back onto his belly and looks in the direction the sound came from. Sitting in a puddle of light that is shinning down in the only place where trees aren't blocking out the sun, there is a wolf. And a spike of fear shoots through him for a moment because he is sure that whatever he is the wolf is bigger and meaner. Every hair on his body stands up on end and his back arches as he starts backing up some. Then it laughs again.

"An otter… I'm somehow not surprised at all," it says and the voice is familiar, feminine. But Dean doesn't relax until their eyes meet and he sees the same tired but warm brown eyes that he was staring into when he fell asleep.

"Ashleigh?" he asks quietly and she dips her head in a little nod so he creeps forward. And the more he looks at her the less scary she looks.

Her fur is white but there is a slight yellow tint to it that makes her more a cream color than a blinding white. She slowly lowers herself down onto the ground, letting out a tired huff. Even now she looks so exhausted, fur sticking up in all places and she looks a little too skinny, like she really hasn't been taking any time to take care of herself in a long time. Above her head there is the screech of a bird and Dean looks up. There is a falcon and a crow flying around each other, swooping down to try and sink their talons or beaks into one another's flesh.

"What are we doing here?" Dean asks, moving to sit lay beside the wolf that leans down and licks the top of his head affectionately.

"Hmm. You're here to find what you need to find," she answers, before she stands up with a groan. She leans down, nudging Dean with her nose. "Go on, now. We're in your head, you know… Or you are. I can't go with you," she said, pushing him out of her little bit of light.

Dean looks panicked for a moment and he frowns. "What! But you're supposed to help me," he says angrily.

She just shrugs.

"I got you here. The rest is up to you. I will give you some advice, though. Keep moving. There are plenty of things in your head that you probably don't want catching up to you," she says.

Then the light disappears like someone flicking out a light switch and the wolf is gone. From the pitch black shadows between the trees he sees a little movement. Then the darkness just seems to jump out at him, reaching for him with thick black tendrils of inky… _wrongness…_

His hackles are up again and he quickly turns tail and starts running. He isn't sure what the hell part of his brain is reaching out for him but he doesn't want to sink into it so he runs. Even the best of men know when it's time to turn tail and run… Only he likes to think of it more as falling back and regrouping. So he flees, not daring to look over his shoulder for fear of seeing that the darkness has caught up to him. Somehow he doesn't think he is making much headway because he's an otter and as far as he knows they do better in water than they do on land.

So when he sees a river just up ahead he doesn't even think before slamming into the cold water face first. Slicing through the water is much easier than trying to run on land but he can still feel the darkness nipping at his heels… er… tail. And the one time he glances back to see the how far the distance between him and it is happens to be the exact moment there is something for him to watch out for because he crashes into a wooden barrier keeping him from running any further. Panic grips him and he shudders, trying to press himself against the sticks and mud blocking his way. And just when he feels that suffocating blackness starting to catch him, try to pull him in, something else grabs him and he gets jerked through the water

It all happens so fast that he barely knows what is going on until he finds himself somewhere mostly dry but warm and dark. It takes a moment for his eyes to adjust and before they do he is shaking in the dark and whimpering as he feels something stroking their claws through his fur and sniffing at him. He feels a cold nose and a blunt snout pressing into his neck and cheek and along his back. And it is scary. But once his eyes adjust and he can see again he's met with a pair of worried, warm hazel eyes that he would know anywhere.

"Sam?" he asks softly but Sam doesn't answer. He just shuffles closer and presses his large, bulky body against Dean's keeping him pinned between the wall and the circle of water that leads back into the water.

Slowly Dean starts to relax because he feels safe. Even if he is in the dark now this is different than what was chasing him. This is warm and intimate and protective and safe because Sam is with him. He just wishes Sam would talk. As soon as the lingering fear in him slowly eases off he starts to study his brother. Just like in reality he is bulker than him but he doesn't seem to be an otter and on further inspection he realizes that he is right. Sam is a beaver.

Dean is pretty sure that this is not how beavers and otters normally behave in the wild but apparently his mind is a strange place where his brother is a beaver… With a soft hum he lets himself relax against Sam's side and he closes his eyes. Then he finally hears Sam's voice.

"Dean. Wake up, man."

Dean grunts softly and tries to burrow his face into the softness to get away from the voice. He loves his brother and wanted him to talk but he doesn't want to move. He is very aware, however, that the furry side he had snuggled up to feels much more like a pillow and smells a lot more like Ashleigh and not like wet fur at all… which is nice. A large hand falls on his shoulder and he is gently shaken. With a little grunt he lifts his head and looks up at Sam who is sitting on the edge of the bed, hovering over him. It's dark out now and the only light in the room is coming from a heating lamp over the snake's cage near the door.

"Sammy?" he mumbles and his brother smiles.

"Welcome back, sleeping beauty, have fun in dreamland?" Sam asks teasingly and Dean grunts.

It makes Sam laugh.

"Alright, well Ashleigh offered to let us stay and eat before we left. And it's a full moon. I told her you were interested in how she dealt with the supernatural stuff around here and she said she wouldn't mind if we watched her with the local werewolves," he offers, trying to coax Dean out of bed.

It at least gets him to sit up, eyes a bit wider now.

When he thinks of Ashleigh, that tired looking but seemingly sweet woman, and werewolves the first thoughts in his head are not good. So he scrambles off the bed and shoots out the door, Sam following him.

"Dean, what's wrong?" he calls, tagging along behind his brother as Dean slams through the back door and stumbles out onto the porch.

The moon is high and has illuminated everything. Sarah and her car are gone but Danielle is still there. She's sitting on the porch, eating a hotdog and starring out into the yard. She looks over her shoulder at Dean and nods toward the table at the end of the porch.

"Food is down there," she says, looking back to the yard and Dean follows her gaze.

In the middle of the yard there is Ashleigh and around here there are werewolves lazily flopped over on the ground like big puppies, big puppies that are gnawing on parts of what Dean thinks is a deer. One of them has their head on the woman's lap and she's scratching under its chin. All Dean can do is stare at them. Then it is like all of the post sleep grogginess catches up to him because he huffs and then sits down beside Danielle and scrubs his hands over his face.

"Dean…" Sam says, the worry back in his voice full force and Dean feels a little bad for how he just freaked out.

"I'm fine Sam… Just this is weird and that dream I had while I was out was even weirder. You were a beaver…" he mutters rubbing his eyes and sighing softly.

Sam watches Dean for a moment, unsure if he's really alright. Then he nods some, even if his brother can't see him, and heads over to the food and makes both himself and Dean a couple hotdogs and he grabs the entire bowl of chips that is on the table at the end of the porch. Balancing the plates on one arm he seats himself on the stairs, behind Dean and puts the chips between them and Danielle. He hands Dean a plate and for a little while everything is silent, save for the sounds of them eating. Sam is a little nervous to ask but he is curious as to what all his brother and Ashleigh talked about, if anything is different. Eventually he clears his throat and plays with a chip, spinning it between his fingers.

"So Dean… What did you and she talk about?" he finally asks, and Dean shrugs his shoulders.

"Nothing, really. It was weird. She just kinda gave me some advice and let me find what I needed on my own," he answers, glancing back at Sam before he slowly leans back and nestles between the V of his brother's legs.

Sam just looks down at his brother's head as he rests it against his stomach and props his arms up on his legs. And Dean just leans back, making himself comfortable on his brother. He's a little tense, worried that he'll get pushed away but he remembers how warm and safe he felt in his dream when he just let Sam take care of him. When he isn't pushed off and Sam doesn't question him he relaxes and just enjoys the feeling of leaning on his brother for once.

**("****Did you think that was fun? Because trust me you won't have that much fun until you discover oral pleasure.")**

****A/n: Today's quotes that have been used for line breaks have been brought to you by the movies: 'The Departed', 'Cool World', and 'Away We Go'.


End file.
